


sleep and uneven

by abetterdaughter



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abetterdaughter/pseuds/abetterdaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ratchet jerked out of recharge already rolling, and by the time his optics booted properly Drift was already flattened to the berth under him, Ratchet's largest built-in scalpel pressed flat to a major energon line at his throat.  </p>
<p>They stared at each other for a long moment, venting hard, before Drift spoke.  "You were having a nightmare," he said, his vocalizer only a little staticky.  He looked surprised but not afraid, his hands coming up tentatively to touch the lower edge of Ratchet's windscreen.  "I was trying to get you to settle, but you woke up instead.  Sorry."</p>
            </blockquote>





	sleep and uneven

**Author's Note:**

> for aircommanderp

Ratchet jerked out of recharge already rolling, and by the time his optics booted properly Drift was already flattened to the berth under him, Ratchet's largest built-in scalpel pressed flat to a major energon line at his throat.  

They stared at each other for a long moment, venting hard, before Drift spoke.  "You were having a nightmare," he said, his vocalizer only a little staticky.  He looked surprised but not afraid, his hands coming up tentatively to touch the lower edge of Ratchet's windscreen.  "I was trying to get you to settle, but you woke up instead.  Sorry."

Ratchet slid the scalpel back into his wrist and rolled back off of Drift, sitting up on the edge of the berth and rubbing shaking hands over his face.  Drift sat up with him, reaching out, but Ratchet shrugged off the touch and stood abruptly.

"Ratchet?" Drift  said, but Ratchet shook his head hard, taking a few steps away from the berth.

"Get some more recharge," he said, his tone uninviting.  "Forget it. I'm… fine."  

"What were you dreaming about?" Drift persisted, his optics glowing soft in the dark, lighting his face in sleepy, guileless concern.  Ratchet looked away, nerve nearly failing him, then looked back.  

"Dagoran-4," he said, his voice completely without inflection… but it was unnecessary, as were explanations--Drift had been there.  Or Deadlock had.   _They're the same person_ , Ratchet reminded himself savagely, but that anger bled away as he kept his optics on Drift's expression, watching it crumple like weak sheet metal around the force of the blow he'd struck.  This used to be satisfying, the power to strip the bruised, tentative happiness from Drift's face and frame with only a few words of reminding because how _dare_ he forget, even for an instant?  Now it just made Ratchet want to purge a tank.  

The battle had been a bad one and Deadlock had torn through it like a hurricane, leaving dead and a horrifying number of wounded in his wake.  Ratchet had worked alone, mechanically, for hours, welding and bolting as he moved across the battlefield from mech to mech, his hands slick with energon and oil.  He'd kept on, in a daze of injury and terror that the mech who had done this would suddenly appear at his back and recognize him, or not, until someone had pried him bodily off of one of the injured once he was finally too exhausted to really put up a fight, pulling him away from a half-finished repair on a broken frame whose owner he knew was going to die anyway.  They'd had to leave most of them there--there was no way to find and airlift them all, no space in the medibay for them, no hope for most of them to live anyway, and all Ratchet's makeshift repairs had done was make sure they bled to death more slowly and he knew it.  Responsible for their deaths three times over: for Deadlock, for not being able to fix them, for not being able to get them home.  

Ratchet was jolted out of his reminiscence by a soft sound from the berth as Drift shifted on the edge, no longer looking at him.  The quiet, devastated acceptance on his face curled a dull pain around Ratchet's spark, squeezing, as Drift waited for… what? For Ratchet to shout at him?  To curse him?  For Ratchet to leave?

Ratchet walked back to the berth and sat, then took one of Drift's hands.  His own were steady now, but Drift's was limp in his grip for a moment before he twined their fingers and Drift tensed, nearly pulling away.  

"I love you," Ratchet said and felt Drift go utterly still against him, almost rigid.  He tugged gently until Drift was resting against him, but he didn't relax, not really, not even as Ratchet wrapped an arm around him and drew him carefully back down to the berth.  Ratchet pulled him in, Drift's slighter frame against his as he looped his free arm low on Drift's waist to keep him close.

"It was a dream," Ratchet said and he felt Drift tense against him hard at that, shaking his head, but he overrode it, his voice firming.  "It's over.  It's _done_.  Go back into recharge."

It was a long time before either of them rested again but when Ratchet did, he didn't dream, and he didn't let go.

 


End file.
